Untitled
by OuchKibble
Summary: To Lily Evans and her friends, life is a very confusing thing. Now that they are becoming older and more mature, nothing seems to make sense anymore. The pressures of adulthood are becoming harder and the looming threat of Lord Voldemort is always present


To Lily Evans and her friends, life is a very confusing thing. Now that they are becoming older and more mature, nothing seems to make sense anymore. The pressures of adulthood are becoming harder and the looming threat of Lord Voldemort is always present. Yet Lily and her friends continue their search for a light in the darkness, and they find one . . . in the most unexpected place.

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b Warning: Later chapters of this fic WILL deal with mature subject matter, such as drug and alcohol abuse. You have been warned. /b 

Untitled Chapter One – Escape

The girl stared at the words filling the pages in front of her as hot tears began to spill out of her eyes and down her cheeks. How could she not have known? How could this have happened? What had she done to deserve this?

The words in front of her were telling her that she had come home too late; he was gone and he wasn't going to come back. The doctors had said that it was a miracle he had survived for as long as he had – after all, people weren't expected to live if more than three quarters of their bodies had been burned like his had been. He had lived long enough to say goodbye to his family before the unbearable pain forced him to succumb to an everlasting sleep.

Her eyes skimmed the papers, searching for something that would help her understand exactly what had happened to him. Only a few words stood out to her; ". . . large explosion in the Killkarny Office Building . . . few survivors . . . tragedy . . . death . . ."

She tore her eyes away from the papers and slowly set them down on the table in front of her and picked up a framed photograph – the one thing that he had managed to save. Three smiling faces peered at her from under the glass plate. A date had been inscribed at the bottom of the plain frame; May 27th, 1977 – about a month before his death. She hadn't been with them then, she had been too absorbed in her own life at school.

Why hadn't they told her? Was it because they had thought that she wouldn't care? Was it because they had forgotten about her? Was it because they didn't know how to reach her? Was it because they were afraid of how she would have reacted?

She shook her head in an attempt to clear her thoughts. The news of her father's sudden death had come as a shock to everyone in the family. Surely they would have told her, instead of waiting until she had returned home from school; real families were supposed to do that.

Sighing, the girl put the photograph face down on the table and placed her head in her hands. She hadn't expected to come home to such a broken family. Her sister had been looking down her nose at her all summer, and only speaking to her if it was absolutely necessary. Her mother had been different. She would talk to her, but no conversation between the two of them had been of any importance. They would talk about small things, like the weather and current events, never about the hard times that they were both going through.

To her, it felt like she was a problem that they'd rather not acknowledge, though she didn't understand why. His death had affected her just as much as it had affected them. She was mourning the loss of her father as well, but there was no one to comfort her. She had to face it alone, without a shoulder to cry on, or a friend to turn to. Her friends were probably enjoying their time away from school; they wouldn't want to listen to her wallow in self pity. In fact, she wouldn't blame them if they didn't even congratulate her on becoming Head Girl – they would've stopped listening by the time she got around to that point.

She shook her head and sighed. Miserable days were becoming frequent, and her self pitying episodes were beginning to happen more often. She was afraid that her life would take a turn for the worse if she didn't leave her house as soon as possible.

"Lily?"

The girl turned around in her seat, carefully hiding the photograph underneath the newspaper and wiping her eyes; her mother didn't need to know that she had been feeling sorry for herself again. "Yes, Mum?"

"What are you doing out of bed at such an early hour?" the woman asked. "It's not even 8 o'clock yet."

Lily shrugged and turned her attention away from her mother. "I wanted to check that I hadn't forgotten anything when I was packing last night. I told you yesterday, remember?"

Her mother nodded, though Lily knew that she had forgotten; she could read her mother's expressions, even if the woman was trying to hide her thoughts and feelings. Throughout the summer, Lily had seen the pain in her mother's eyes multiple times, though she didn't say anything about it. It was like an unspoken agreement between the two of them; neither said anything to the other when they knew something was wrong – it was easier that way.

"Will you need a ride to London today, Lily?"

So she had been listening after all. Lily shook her head and tucked a stray piece of auburn hair behind her ear. "I've already taken care of it, Mum. I'll be leaving in a few minutes."

She hadn't, in fact, taken care of anything, but her urge to leave her miserable home was slowly becoming unbearable. She needed to get out as soon as she could, even if doing so meant lying to her mother.

"Do you know what time you'll be back?" her mother asked, peering at her from underneath her wire-rimmed glasses.

Lily shook her head again. "If I'm not back by the time it gets dark, I'll be spending the night at a friend's house. I'll try to get back here for tomorrow." She felt horrible for lying to her mother, but there was no way around it. She couldn't tell her the truth – she wasn't planning on coming back at all.

Her mother nodded and stalked out of the kitchen, leaving Lily alone once again. She took a deep breath and got up from the table, mentally saying goodbye to everything around her. She knew in her heart that she would not be returning to her childhood home, once the school year was over. It held too many painful memories that she didn't have the strength to face again.

She briskly walked to her front door, not wanting to spend any more time in the house, for fear of succumbing to the tears prickling her eyes. Lily knew that if she didn't leave now, she wouldn't want to.

Lily put on her coat and pulled an envelope from inside her jacket. There was no turning back now; she had to go through with it. Placing the envelope on the small table by the front door, she grabbed her trunk and exited her house, unsure of her destination and scared of what would happen to her mother once she found out that her youngest daughter had run away from home because she couldn't handle the pain of her father's death.

Upon hearing the door close, Mrs. June Evans hurried down from her bedroom and to the front room in an effort to see her daughter off to London. She was too late. The only thing there was a sealed white envelope with the word i Mum /i written on it.

Slowly, Mrs. Evans picked up the envelope, oblivious to the fact that her hands were shaking. She carefully opened it, careful not to tear it any more than it needed to be. Walking into the living room, the woman pulled two sheets of folded paper out from the envelope, sat down in an overstuffed armchair, and began to read.

i Dear Mum,

I won't be returning home tomorrow. In fact, I'm not sure if I'll ever return home at all. I'm sorry I had to lie to you, but it was the only way I could leave without causing something big.

I can't take it, Mum. We never talk anymore, and Petunia has been avoiding me like the plague. Why didn't you ever ask me how I feel about Dad's death? Why didn't you tell me until I came home from school? I didn't disappear, Mum; I was still part of your family. I was close to him too, you know. I was his daughter. Don't you think I would have liked to have said goodbye to him? Don't you think I would have wanted to comfort you and Petunia while you watched him suffer? Don't you think I wanted to be comforted as well? I wanted to help you and I wanted you to help me as well. I suppose that we don't always get what we want.

The silence in the house was unbearable. At times, I thought that I was going crazy. You didn't show any emotion when I told you that I had been made Head Girl. You didn't congratulate me when I told you how well I had done in school. You didn't care when Petunia came home in the middle of the night, drunk out of her skull. We were both craving attention, Mum. We both wanted you to notice that we were in pain too.

I had to leave. I need time to find myself, I need time to mourn; I need to figure out what I'm going to do with my life. Maybe you can do the same?

Take care of Petunia; she certainly needs you right now. Her life has been spiraling out of control, and I'm afraid that yours might too. You've always been a strong woman, Mum, and so has she, but I'm afraid that the source of your strength was Dad, and he's not here anymore. You can still be strong, if only for Petunia's sake.

Don't worry about me; I'll be fine on my own. I realize that my running away might be the biggest mistake I've ever made, but Dad always said that we learn from our mistakes.

I'll make sure to keep in touch, even if it's just to see how you and Petunia are doing. I'll write again when I'm back at school and I've regained the stability that I've been craving for a while. Until then, take care of yourself and Petunia. Make sure that you give her that attention that she needs. Talk to her, Mum; I know she needs to let you know how she's feeling, and I'm sure you need to do the same. Don't be afraid to open up to her, you might be surprised with what she tells you.

You can expect my letter in two weeks.

Your daughter,

Lily. /i 

Mrs. Evans put the letter back in the envelope and turned to look out the window, silent tears streaming down her face as she felt her heart break once again.

"Are you lost, Miss?"

Lily looked up at the man in front of her and shook her head. "No, sir. I'm waiting for the next train to London; do you know when it is?" From her house, she had walked an hour and a half to the nearest train station, trying to put on a brave face, though inside, she was terrified.

The man looked at the gold watch on his wrist. "There should be one coming in about fifteen minutes."

Lily exhaled. "Thank you, sir."

The man smiled sadly. "Are you sure you're all right, Miss?"

Lily nodded and smiled at him. "I think I'm going to be just fine, sir. Thank you." There was truth to her statement. The feeling of fright was beginning to dissipate. She really would be okay.


End file.
